


Forty-Five Holiday Stories

by KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Love, Multi, Other, Winter, adding tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls/pseuds/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls
Summary: Collection of holiday shorts with characters from the Star Wars TFA and Marvel (Avengers) universes.Mostly set in modern AU.[Please be aware that I'm adding and/or changing tags once I add more chapters. Rogers, Barnes, Finn, Rey, Hux, Phasma are preliminary for now but I have ideas set aside.][This is a self-challenge sort of speak. I'm working on my short story skills, so most chapters will not exceed 1,500 max.][Prompt ideas credit goes totheo-stilinski.tumblr.com]





	1. Poe Dameron: “You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe Dameron/ Reader

Christmas Eve.  
Waist deep snow everywhere.  
Unforgiving gusts of cold air sweep through the streets.  
   
The bus you're on screeches to a halt at your stop, and you ready yourself as best as you can before getting off; pulling your scarf over your nose and your coat as tight as possible. Even so, the freezing air hits you like a brick wall and you - _quite literally_ \- stand frozen for a moment.  
You are barely able to mumble a "thank you" and a "Merry Christmas" to the bus driver, but somehow you manage; and he, in return, bids a half-smiled "Happy Holidays" your way before closing the doors.  
   
You hitch a breath, the cold air invading your lungs startling you for a second, then finally make your way to your apartment building.  
You scoff out a sad laugh.  
Lights and decorations brighten the path to your place; hints of sugar and spice sweetening the crisp air on your way there. You can even hear laughter and singing from the houses as you walk past. But you care very little for any of it.  
   
In fact, with each crunching step, your heart gets a little heavier, sadness hitting you hard before you even reach the snow-covered steps that lead to the front door of your apartment building.  
   
You peer around, another scoffed, sad laugh in tow. The neighborhood looks, smells, and sounds like a landing strip for Santa's sleigh. And you usually love the lot of it. But this year is different.  
   
It's different because, for one, you didn't get off work until late. For two, today of all days your car decided to call it quits. No matter how many times you turned the keys, the motor just didn't want to start. Hence, you needing to take the bus back home, the trip lasting nearly three times as long as by car.  
   
All of it not so bad, really, except for one, last, major detail: you are about to spend the rest of the year alone.  
Not by choice, but because your significant other is somewhere halfway around the globe; training, or on some mission, or security detail for some high ranking officer.  
   
He only ever gives a few details whenever he leaves, so you aren't exactly sure. You did learn, though, that this is something that comes with his type of work, so you never ask questions. All you can hope for is that he is safe and that he returns alive and in one piece.  
   
One more glance down the street, then you trudge up the snow-covered steps. You unlock the front door, loud music greeting you in the lobby. Loud music and laughter and more scents of sugar and spice.  
"[Y/N]! Wow! You're late!" your downstairs neighbor and friend, Finn, yells over the small crowd before weaving his way through.  
Your brows pull tight. " Late for?"  
"Christmas party. I left an invite under your door."  
"Ah shit. Finn, I'm sorry. I forgot." Your shoulders slump as you frown.  
   
Finn sighs then pulls you into a side hug. "It's ok, [Y/N]. I understand. He'll be back soon, though, I'm sure." Finn beams; a spark behind his eyes.  
You nod quietly, offering a crooked smile at his enthusiasm, but your face settles back to a frown. "I don't want to be a party pooper but I'm not in the mood. Just.. long day... the car broke down. And Poe... Raincheck?"  
   
Finn scrunches his nose, gears turning behind his dark eyes. "Alright. But only if you promise to come by tomorrow afternoon."  
You pull down a questioning brow. "You having another party?"  
"Nah. More like a small get together. You know, with friends." Finn beams, again. A spark behind his eyes, again.  
   
You shake your head, a chuckle in tow. Finn's always been the cheerful type and Christmas somehow intensifies that tenfold. Clearly, this year is no exception.  
You smile softly, nodding in agreement, and Finn squeezes you closer, placing a quick kiss on your temple. "Awesome. You won't regret it, I promise." A call of his name and Finn excuses himself to see who called him, and you take the chance and hurry up the stairs to your apartment.  
   
The key is already in the lock when you notice light falling through the crack at the bottom of your door. You shrug it off. You probably forgot to hit the switch on the way out to work. It wouldn't be the first time. The sound of the radio coming from the kitchen  _-once you enter your apartment-_ doesn't throw you off either. It's another thing you consistently forget about.  
   
You chuckle because this, right here, is one of Poe's biggest pet peeves, and he sometimes teases you about it. "You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your body" is just one of the statements coming to your mind that very second. He never says any of them in a mean way. Just laughs softly before usually pulling you in for a tender kiss.  
How much you miss him teasing you like that.  
How much you miss him kissing you.  
How much you miss him.  
   
You sigh, pulling off coat and scarf while kicking off your boots, discarding them carelessly to the floor in the hallway. A lingering moment follows when you stare at the empty spot where his boots usually sit; and the empty hanger where his jacket usually hangs. You sigh again. You pick up your coat and scarf, and line up your boots, the question "Babe, you setting up traps for burglars?" procuring an internalized snicker from you when you think about Poe.  
Maker, how much you miss him. So much so, you can feel the tears edging to the corners of your eyes. It's a miracle you stay composed.  
   
You draw in a long breath. "Enough." You whisper to yourself.  
You slowly walk to the kitchen to turn off the radio, passing the living room on the way there.  You are almost by the kitchen door when you stop.  
There is a moment of processing.  
A moment of _//wait a minute//_.   
A moment of _//I don't remember...//_  
   
You do a 180 and dash back down the hallway, sliding to a stop in the doorway to the living room, your jaw slacking and eyes widening when you're confronted with decorations and lights and a tree so tall and wide, it takes up nearly a third of the room.  
Jaw slacking and eyes widening because _you_ hadn't decorated the room.  
Jaw slacking and eyes widening because the person who had, stands smiling right next to the tree, waiting for you to process the sight.  
   
And process it does. Slowly. As though time has stopped completely. Slowly, because there is a thought - _just for a fraction_ \- that maybe none of this is real. Slowly, because maybe if you blink right now, all of it will disappear.  
So you hold your breath, trying your best not to blink, but a tear edging its way over the rim of your eye and you can't help the fast movement.  
   
You internalize a cuss word but to your surprise, when you open your eyes, everything is still there.  
   
The decorations.  
The lights.  
The tree.  
And...  
   
...him.  
Poe.  
Still smiling.  
Still waiting.  
   
You shake your head and sprint for him and he catches you in a spin, laughing. **_“You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”_** he asks, and you shake your head, burying your face in the curve of his neck, not wanting to let go.  
 


	2. Sam Wilson: "It's almost midnight..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson/ Reader

"Champagne?" The waiter asks, holding a tray in front of you.  
You _-somewhat nervously-_ grab a flute, whispering a "thank you", then scan the ballroom for your friend and roommate, Nat. After all, she is the one who had invited you.  
   
Although, it had taken some convincing.  
You hadn't gone out for a while after your last break-up. Not that it had been a bad break. It had been a mutual decision. Still, you had needed time to digest. Time, your friend had given you until she had had enough of you moping around the apartment.  
"It'll be fun. It's going to be at Stark Tower. And you get to meet some of my co-workers." Nat had coaxed with wiggling brows. More like poked and nudged over and over and over again until you, at last, gave in. If only to make her stop; especially since she seemed keen on trying to get you back into the dating game.  
   
You laugh softly at your friend's determination, and at the fact that she had won.  
"[Y/N]. You made it." You hear Nat's voice before you spy her closing in from the side. She hugs you, big smile on face. "You look great."  
"Thank you." You smile.  
"Ready to meet them all." Nat wiggles her brows.  
"Nat, please. Don't... I'm ... Nat..." You stammer but before you can say anything else, she takes your hand and pulls you towards a rather large group at the other end of the room.  
   
"Guys! This is [Y/N]. [Y/N], the Avengers." Nat proclaims quite loudly. "Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Scott, Wanda, Clint, Sam..." Nat rattles down the names and you try to keep up. A lot of the names and faces, you know already. Most of them from the news. Some from Nat's stories. Only a few faces are new, but you are sure you'll hear more about them over time.  
   
Nat finishes and a unison hello comes your way, you whispering a hello in return.  
"[Y/N]'s usually more vocal." Nat goes on.  
"Just overwhelmed meeting the fun group of the party, huh?" Tony smirks with such confidence that you can't help a small laugh.  
"I don't know. I overheard a group back there talking something about space anomalies and power conversion. Sounded pretty fun to me." You point with your thumb over your shoulder while holding a serious face, and Tony laughs.  
"That's what you get when you throw a New Year's party for a bunch of boring scientists." Sam [Wilson] pouts.  
   
"Come on, Wilson. You know you're having fun." Tony pours himself a whiskey on the rocks, offering to pour one for Sam but he declines.  
"Basic was more fun than this." Sam looks over to an empty dance floor.  
"It would help if you didn't play some artsy fartsy classic music to impress people." You state quite nonchalantly; immediately regretting it when you see Nat's and Sam's wide grins and Tony's semi-offended stare.  
   
"Artsy fartsy, huh?" Tony squints at you.  
"I'm so sorry Mister Stark, I ... I didn't mean it... I mean.. uhmmm..." You peer from face to face, eyes desperately asking indirectly for some help from Nat.  
"Uh... fuck it. You're right. Time to mix it up... Excuse me. Excuse me! People..." Tony walks to the center of the dance floor. "Yah. So... this is fun. Uhm. Thanks for showing up. But my god is it boring." He looks to the D.J., then at you. With a wink. "Give us some real music."  
   
Next thing you know, Uptown Funk blares through the speakers, and you find yourself on the dance floor with Nat, Sam, and Tony, others slowly joining you as you laugh through Tony's and your own attempts to figure out the dance steps. "I'm an old man. Can't keep up with you young hoppers." Tony defends.  
"Old man my ass, Stark. Here, let me show you how it's done [Y/N]." Sam pulls you closer to his side and teaches you the steps. You catch on fast, and before you realize it, Sam and you dance through three more songs.  
   
"I need a break." You nearly have to yell the words.  
"Me, too." Sam mouths.  
He leads you to the bar, ordering himself some drink you've never heard of, then turns to you. "Do you want something? Gin tonic? Another champagne?"  
"Just water." You smile.  
"I can respect that." Sam nods, ordering for you.  
   
Your drinks arrive and the two of you get comfortable by the bar, sipping while watching the crowd.  
"Thanks for saving the party," Sam says out of the blue from the side, and you laugh.  
"It needed saving." You laugh again. Softer this time.  "Plus, you looked kind of sad that no one was dancing."  
"Yeah. I mean, shit, we got serious jobs. You gotta lighten up now and then."  
You nod in agreement, then side-eye Sam. He's still watching the crowd, sipping on his drink, smiling now and then when his friends look his way.  
   
There's something about him you quite like. Easygoing nature. Fun-loving. Speaks his mind. Always with a bit of a mischievous spark behind his eyes. But you see something else. It's just a hint in the way he looks at his friends. "Do you like being an Avenger?" You ask and Sam perks a caught-off-guard brow.  
   
He turns on his barstool, all attention on you. "You're not press, are you?"  
You chuckle and shake your head. "No."  
Sam holds a curious gaze and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You look down for a second, then back up. "I'm one of those boring scientists."  
Sam's eyes widen. "You are? Oh shit... I'm sorry. I didn't... Great."  
"No. It's ok. I admit. We can be rather boring." You chuckle, then take a sip from your water.  
"You're not like any scientist, I've ever met. You're... You're... fun."  
   
You boom out a laugh, and Sam joins in. "Tony isn't fun?" You quirk a brow.  
"Ahhhh. Tony is... Tony. Most scientists around here. I don't know. Could just be a corporate thing." Sam frowns, and for the first time all evening, you see him truly serious. But only for a moment. Then his smile returns. With a wink. "We should go back. Dance." He shimmies his shoulders, but you feel like he's avoiding.  
"You haven't answered my question, yet."  
Sam heaves a breath. "Overall, it's not bad."  
"But?"  
"But... Sometimes, I wish there was more than worrying that moments like this don't last."  
You squeeze his hand and he smiles. "Then let's make the most of it."  
"Yeah. Let's." He squeezes your hand back.  
   
"Come on you two. Time to do the Macarena." Tony interrupts the tender moment and Sam rolls his eyes.  
"There's one, I'd like to sit out." His eyes go wide.  
"Now who's being boring." You laugh as you drag Sam back to the dance floor.  
   
You dance through the song, and one more fast-paced, 90's number, then things slow down. A moment of hesitation from you, but Sam holds your hand tight. **_"It's almost midnight."_** He whispers. "You know what happens at midnight, right?" He raises a soft brow.  
"The carriage turns into a pumpkin?" You wisecrack and Sam chuckles.  
"Smart ass... I mean midnight on New Year's Eve."  
You bite your lower lip, then hear the countdown begin. "Better make this moment last." You whisper, the countdown reaching zero, and Sam pulling you in for an enduring kiss.


	3. Rey, Finn/Poe: "You're covered in flour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe/Finn pairing, Poe, Finn, Rey, and reader friendship.

You open the door to the apartment, bags slipping from your arms.  
"A little help." You yell.  
Rey's head comes to view between kitchen door and frame, her smiling widely. "We were about to send a rescue team." She snickers as she paces your way.  
You hand off a few of the bags, dropping the rest to the floor to take off coat, scarf, and hat. "You should have. It's a madhouse out there."  
   
"Serves you right for waiting 'til the last minute to get your Christmas shopping done." Rey pokes, waiting for you to follow her to the kitchen where Finn's and Poe's laughter echo over holiday music.  
"That's fair." You shrug. You pick up the bags, then sniff the air, scents of cinnamon and spice wrapping around your nose. "Please tell me that they're making their famous apple pie."  
"You know it." Rey's brows wiggle and you snicker.  
   
Just then, you hear something crash in the kitchen,  followed by a dusty looking something flashing past you, and Poe running after. "BB-Eight. Come back here. Oh... you're in so much trouble! Don't you hide behind [Y/N]!" Poe reaches you, his two-year-old corgi hiding behind you.  
   
You glance down and are met with the most apologetic puppy eyes you've ever seen. "What happened to you?" You snicker, dropping your bags again, kneeling down to scratch BB-Eight's head. " What is that? Are you...? **_You're covered in flour._** " You laugh, that laugh stopping fast when BB-Eight shakes out his fur, covering everyone in the hallway with a thin layer of flour.  
   
"Not so funny now, is it?" Poe quirks an annoyed brow.  
A moment of silence as things process, then you're blinded by the flash of a camera. "Perfect. This will go right into our holiday album." Finn grins ear to ear, placing a tender kiss on Poe's cheek, and you all fall into laughter.  
   
"At least tell me you didn't eat the apple pie." You scratch BB-Eight's head again and the corgi rolls over.  
"No. But he did steal a couple of Santa's cookies." Poe frowns.  
"Such a rascal." You rub BB-Eight's tummy before Poe scoops him up for a bath.  
"I suppose we can always make more." Poe ruffles BB-Eight's fur in his arms. "But no more stealing cookies!" He scolds with a laugh while BB-Eight licks Poe's face.


	4. Hux/Phasma: "Open your Present!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux/ Phasma pairing.

The tree stands decorated in strong colors of red and gold in the living room. Icicle string-lights hang perfectly aligned with the spokes of the grand staircase's railing, while garlands of evergreen lay draped atop in even loops. All of it a nice contrast to the white carpets and dark furniture they own.  
   
Even the kitchen doesn't escape the annual transformation. Here, the windows sit adorned with wreaths of red, green, and gold. Towels have been exchanged from luxurious white cotton to holiday-themed cloths for time being. And mistletoe hangs perfectly centered in the doorway to the dining room.  
   
Their house is the epitome of perfection. Even during the holidays. Or maybe especially because of the holidays. Both love the season much more than they care to admit to outsiders. For different reasons. Him, because requests to play his tenor sax usually increase during this time. Her, because she loves the color red, and now - _once again_ \- has an excuse to not only decorate the house that way but also to wear the many different, red sequined gowns she owns.  
   
Of course, there are more reasons than that. The baking, the singing, the decorating. The increase in calls from family and friends. That, however, is more welcomed by her than him, mainly because his father disapproves of such "extravagance and unnecessary spending". The disapproval is not just aimed at the annual holiday transformation either, but at the couple's choices in general. So he dislikes the increase in calls.  
   
He does, however, enjoy one thing above anything else during this time of year. It is something not even his father can take away. And that is the determination to always find her the perfect gift. No matter how busy they get. No matter if they are separated due to work. Every year, since they had gotten married, he has managed to get her the perfect gift.  
   
To him, it isn't so much about the gift itself but what he gets in return. And every year, it is always the same thing: the widest of wide smiles and a moment of speechless happy tears; always followed by a passionate kiss; always all three from her.  
   
He chuckles, thinking about her reaction upon entering their house. A quick smile at the memories of her beaming face. A quick smile that vanishes the second he hears her sobbing in the living room.  
   
He hitches a breath and stands quiet for a moment. The usual holiday cheer replaced by sadness.  
This year, it has been difficult to find her the perfect something. If he is being honest with himself, it had been difficult the last couple of years. But this year seems so much worse.  
   
It had been a year filled with heartbreak and frustration. There'd been hopes and dreams of tiny feet softly pitter-pattering across plush carpet. Or at least, to hear the sounds of little coos and baby giggles echoing through the rooms by now.  
Kriff, he would even take the cries for hunger or the need to be held over her pain-filled and frustrated tears at this very moment.  
Instead, there'd been nothing but "we don't understand, nothing is wrong with either of you" and "try to relax, stress affects the possibilities".  
   
He hitches another breath, slowly taking off his heavy overcoat before making his way to the living room. He tries to be quiet but a soft creak announces his presence and she, for a moment, holds back her sobs.  
   
A few more steps before he reaches the leather sofa on which she sits, back to him. A few more steps, of which each seems to get heavier than the previous. A few more steps during which he sees her return to heavy sobs.  
   
He reaches her and lays a soft hand on her shoulder, thoughts collecting at the back of his mind. "Phasma, darling...," He starts, but stops when she looks up.  
   
There are tears running down her face alright. But the smile that comes with them confuses him.  "Are you ok, darling?" He slowly sits down next to her, his hands folding over hers.  
"More than ok." She whispers, then her focus shifts to the coffee table and his gaze follows. A small box covered in red and gold paper stands atop. "That's for you," Phasma whispers.  
   
Hux raises a brow, more confused than before. "Darling, Christmas isn't for another week." He points out, a light chuckle in tow.  
"I know. But...," She sighs, more tears edging over the rims of her eyes. She reaches for the gift, handing it to Hux, barely managing the "Open your present..."  
"Ok. But if Santa says I'm naughty." Hux laughs to lighten the mood.  
"Just... **_Open your present!_** " Phasma insists, a stern brow in tow, so Hux does, Phasma watching him intently.  
   
It takes a few seconds. A few moments to process what he sees. A few moments during which neither say a word. But the reaction is that of a perfect gift. The widest of wide smiles and a moment of speechless happy tears, followed by a passionate kiss. And this year, they're from him. "When... when did you?" He trembles out the question.  
"I found out this morning." Phasma beams. She bites her lower lip, and he sits quietly, still processing, tears rolling down his face.  
"I'm going to be a dad. We're... we're going to be parents." He whispers this time.  
"The perfect gift, I'd say." Phasma snickers.  
"The perfect gift." Hux beams, the couple falling into each other's arms, the sound of happy cries echoing through the house.


	5. Poe Dameron: "Awwww... look at my little elf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe Dameron/ fem reader.

Christmas time is different this year.  
Well, somewhat.  
Actually, if you are being completely honest with yourself, most of the traditions are the same.  
   
Poe, like every year since you had gotten married, had decorated your shared apartment. He had gotten the tree from the market, put up the lights, and had even made the front door look like a giant present. And you, like always, had baked cookies and cakes for his squadron; wrapped presents to fill goody boxes for service members far away; and had helped decorate the cantina for those who would spend the holidays on base instead of returning home to family and friends.  
   
So Christmas time is actually the same, and yet, it's different because this year it isn't just Poe and you makes two, but Poe and you and baby makes three. So, yes, Christmas time is different this year because now you both try to balance traditions with Tiny's needs while trying to capture all her firsts. Something that has been a mix of humorous and un-kriffing-believable thus far.  
   
The latest example just a couple of weeks ago, when baby had finally become mobile. All it had taken was amazement driven curiosity to check out the tree and one low hanging garland. Poe had never run as fast as in that moment, when the tree had started toppling and baby had cooed happily in its path, oblivious of the imminent danger. "Ok. Maybe we do need one of those fence things." Poe had huffed wide-eyed; catching the tree just in time; watching as baby crawled to investigate some other amazing thing, only for Poe to yell "[Y/N]! It's Shara! QUICK!" when baby pulled on the tablecloth of the dining room table.  
"She just wants to help, don't you Shara?" You had laughed at the moment. But only after your heart had settled back to a normal pace. Funny how one, tiny little human has the ability to turn life upside down.  
   
Now, there is indeed a baby-proof fence around the tree, and a baby gate by the stairs, and a baby gate by the kitchen door, and covers on all outlets, and locks on all cabinets. Not to mention an ever-vigilant eye on Tiny at all times.  
   
Even so, it doesn't take away from the joy baby brings you every day. Not that either of you ever felt that having one was necessary to make your family complete, but now that Tiny is here, you both can't imagine a life without her, and you can't wait to share more of your Christmas traditions with her. One of which is coming up fast.  
   
Poe, like several years before _-even before you had gotten married-_ , will dress up as Santa to go hand out presents at the children's ward at one of the hospitals near base. It is this kindhearted spirit that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, although, you did laugh the first time you had seen him in his Santa suit. Fake hair, fake beard, and a fake belly and you couldn't help snorting at the sight, hands on knees to steady yourself and all. Even when you had already been together for a few years, you would laugh. "Keep it up. You'll be wearing this!" Poe had stated the year after you had tied the knot, handing you a Misses Claus outfit in the same breath.  
   
You don't remember why you had agreed. All you know now is that it had become one of your favorite traditions, and now Tiny will share this day with you, despite her still being little and despite her likely not remembering a single thing from this first Christmas.  
   
The latter has you assume that Tiny will be more or less a bystander. She's still small and likely will fall asleep in her stroller. After all, the event is planned for the early afternoon, usually the time baby takes a nap. But as you get ready, you can hear Poe snickering from one room over.  
   
"Ok, now the hat." You hear Poe tell your daughter, and naturally, your curiosity is piqued. You finish dusting your cheeks with rouge and grab your Misses Claus hat on the way to the nursery.  
"Poe. What are you...? What... the... really? Really!?" You stare for a moment; Poe holding Tiny while she enthusiastically rips a green-red striped hat off her head.  
"What? She looks adorable!" Poe picks up the hat and replaces it, baby reaching for you with wailing arms, so you scoop her into yours.  
   
You give her another once-over, noticing that the onesie she is wearing matches the hat. Along with the curled shoes and striped pants. "Poe. You know she's not going to remember."  
"That's why cameras exist." Poe beams as he hurries to get his phone. "Ok, ready. One... two... three." The shutter clicks and Poe reviews the picture. " ** _Awwww, look at my little elf_**." He gushes and you quirk a brow. "Misses Claus looks adorable, too." Poe comes to your side, and snaps a selfie style picture of the three of you; him kissing your cheek for the second take.  
"I love you, Poe Dameron." You snicker.  
   
"Sorry, Poe's left the building. It's Santa Claus, ho ho ho." Poe's voice lowers, making him sound like some bad Elvis impersonator and you snort out another laugh. "Love you, too, babe." He places another kiss on your cheek then lifts baby back into his arms. "And you, my little elf." He smiles, lifting baby up and down, making swooshing noises as though she's flying. "Next up, pilot training." Poe grins, and your eyes go wide.  
   
"One tradition at a time, Commander. One tradition at a time!" You draw out the words as you ready the stroller to head out the door.  
"Don't worry. We'll convince mommy." You hear Poe whisper into baby's ear just as he secures her into the stroller.  
You chuckle and shake your head.  
Christmas time is different this year.  
But you don't mind.  
Because actually, most of the traditions are the same, and you look forward to sharing them, because you and Poe and baby makes three, and soon you know the count will be four.


	6. Bucky Barnes: "Okay, but hear me out, these ornaments are way better.” -“They don’t even match"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes/ Reader

"'Tis the season to be jolly. Fa lalala la lala lala..." Bucky sings on top of his lungs towards the market. "Come on, [Y/N]. Sing with me."  
You shake your head, laughing at the excitement in Bucky's voice.  
   
He had told you stories about how much he loved the holidays. How much he had missed celebrating. How much he looked forward to his first true Christmas at home with you.  
   
That is, his first, truly peaceful Christmas since he had joined the Avengers because for once, there are no missions. For once, the world seems to have had enough of hatred and war. For once, his phone doesn't ring to rush to some out of country emergency.  
   
Or maybe it is because for once you had put your foot down during a meeting with Stark, threatening him with an "Or else!" when you requested Bucky get this year off because you had had enough of worry and being alone and long distance "Merry Christmas, Doll." phone calls.  
   
To your surprise, Tony had agreed without much resistance. In fact, he encouraged the request be extended to the whole team. So now, you are rushing to get a tree and decorations and whatever else you need because Bucky has invited pretty much everyone he knows for a Christmas party. At your place. TOMORROW!  
   
"What do you think, Doll? Too tall? Oh, this one is nice, too. We should get two trees." Bucky zigzags from one tree to the next, unsure which to pick.  
"James, one tree!" You hold up an index, and Bucky frowns. "We're not turning the apartment into a forest." You hold a stern brow.  
Bucky paces your way, pulling you close by the hips. "I'm just kidding, Doll. I know, only one tree." He kisses over your brow, then snickers. "But you didn't say how many lights I can hang." He wiggles his brows and you push him away at the chest.  
   
"James Buchanan Barnes!" You warn but Bucky just pulls you back towards himself, laughing a kiss against your cheek,  
"I'm just kidding, Doll." He accentuates the word doll, and you roll your eyes, freeing yourself from his hold to walk on.  
"That 1940's sweet talk won't help you."  
"Yes, it will." Bucky smiles widely, stopping next to a ten foot Fraser fir.  
   
You chuckle, shaking your head again, but even you have to admit, Bucky's enthusiasm to decorate the house is infectious in a way, so you let him get the tree, even though it barely fits on top of the truck.  
   
"Should've grabbed the decorations first." You huff as you tighten the rope to hold the tree in place.  
"Yeah but this way we know how many baubles we'll need," Bucky comes to your side and ties the rope with ease.  
"Well, you'll be carrying all that stuff upstairs. All six floors because this was your idea." You poke your finger into Bucky's chest.  
"And you love it," Bucky kisses your cheek, again.  
   
You head towards the indoors market next to the tree place, a mix of holiday scents, music, and flashing lights hitting all your senses simultaneously once inside.  
"[Y/N], look at this. We totally need this for the tree." Bucky aims for musical ornaments. "And these right here. Oh... and look at that! Tinsel. We totally need tinsel! And those baubles. Oh my god, look at that! A train!"  
   
Your eyes go wide when you realize that Bucky is ready to buy everything in the store. "Or we could get one of the sets." You gear towards a shelf with prepared bauble and tinsel sets, aiming for a blue-hued combination.  
 ** _"Okay, but hear me out, these ornaments are way better."_** Bucky holds up four different boxes. One is filled with wooden stars; another with gold glittered baubles; the third with Grinch themed figurines, and the fourth is "Space shuttles. Look they even make sounds." Bucky pushes a button on one of the shuttles, a countdown from ten counting down for liftoff starting.  
You quirk a brow, unsure if you should be amused or slightly horrified. "Bucky, **_they don't even match!_** "  
   
"Who cares. It's supposed to be fun." Bucky shimmies the boxes. "Come on. Please? Pleeeeeeaaaase?" He gives you puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeeeeaaaasseeeeee."  
You shake your head, laughing. "You better be helping with all this, James Buchanan Barnes, or else I'm telling Santa to cancel your presents."  
Bucky's jaw slacks. "You wouldn't dare!"  
"I totally would! Now go get a cart, there is no way we can carry all this stuff back to the register." You laugh again, and Bucky hurries to grab a cart. On the way towards you, you spy him grabbing a couple of wreaths, and string-lights in the shapes of snowflakes, and one of the train sets to put around the tree.


	7. Rey, Finn/Poe: "Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all the lights?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey friendship, Finn/Poe pairing.

She's been waiting for this all year.  
Her favorite season.  
Christmas time.  
   
Like the last couple of years, since she had bought her own place, the tree is up not even twenty-four hours after Thanksgiving is over; the fall inspired decorations inside her tiny house already replaced with evergreen wreaths and multicolored string lights, while the rather minuscule front yard already sits littered with - _for time being_ \- deflated snow-globes and electronic thing-a-ma-jigs. All of which her friends, Finn and Poe, help to set up.  
   
There is a bit of teasing from the couple. Amusement because she _-quite literally-_ is always the first to put up the lights in her neighborhood. As though her house is the great announcer that Christmas time has indeed arrived. But she shrugs off her friends' wisecracking jabs. She knows that at heart, they love this time of year just as much as her. It's just that their enthusiasm doesn't rev up until about a week before Christmas Eve.  
   
"We still need to put up the giant candy canes by the fence," Rey states, her cheeks rosy from being outside all afternoon. On her side sits BB-Eight, Poe's two-year-old corgi, barking excitedly as though the pup is agreeing with Rey.  
"I thought, you wanted giant lollypops this year," Poe smirks with a mocking brow.  
"Yes. But those go by the wall." Rey points with her thumb over her shoulder to her house, and Poe's eyes widen.  
"You want to put up the candy canes AND the lollypops?"  
"Of course!" Rey nods fast with excitement, BB-8 aiding the request by circling the box.  
   
"How about giant gumdrops?" Finn jokes, pointing to the roof.  
"Dude, don't give her ideas!" Poe shakes his head and Finn laughs.  
"Why not? Might as well."  
"Because I'm not climbing back on the roof." Poe's eyes go wide again, and Finn laughs a kiss on Poe's cheek.  
"Don't be so grumpy." Finn squeezes Poe closer, placing another kiss.  
"I'm not. Just saying. Not climbing back up there. Not like there's any space left anyways."  
   
"You two are just jealous because your house isn't as awesome as mine," Rey states, hands on her hips, fierce eyes in tow.  
"True." Poe nods then glances up and down the facade of Rey's house. "But I also know, I won't have to worry about some plane mistaking our place as a landing strip." He laughs, taking a step back to get a better view.  
   
There isn't an inch of free space left, the outside walls covered in cascading string lights while a group of animatronic elves stands atop the roof; along with a giant light-up stocking, and giant light up presents.  
   
"Shut up and get done. It's already getting dark." Rey demands, hands still on hips, and BB-8 barks at Poe.  
Poe rolls his eyes. With another laugh, and imitating Rey's stance.  
"Come on. I really wanna get done. Rose is coming over later. And Jessika. And Snap." Rey's voice is close to whiny.  
"I don't see them helping," Poe grumbles.  
"They will. You don't seriously think those cookies bake themselves, do you?" Rey aligns a few things in the yard, and Poe shakes his head, chuckling.  
   
He stakes the last of the lollipops close to the house's walls while Finn inflates the snow globes, at last, BB-Eight rushing between everyone because he knows full well what time of year it is.  
A few more clicks of cables getting connected, then the four of them stand by the gate, Poe holding a nervous thumb on the switch.  
"What are you waiting for?" Rey bounces on her heels.  
Poe hitches a breath. "Just thinking. Maybe I should check the breakers one more time."  
"You checked like three times already. The breakers are fine." Finn raises an annoyed brow but Poe hesitates.  
   
"Finn's right. Flip the switch!" Rey starts jumping and so does BB-Eight.  
"I don't know. **_Aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all the lights?_** ”  
"Has it ever caught on fire?" Rey waits for an answer but there isn't one. "Come on! Flip the switch! Flip the switch! Flip the switch!" she chants, Finn joining her, BB-Eight barking along, and Poe, at last, caves. That is, with a one-eyed squint as though he's expecting the whole thing to go off.  
   
                         
The sigh of relief, that follows a brief moment later, earns Poe a punch against his arm.  
"Told ya, it'd be fine." Rey beams, taking a moment to admire the display.  
"You sure did." Finn smiles equally as wide, squeezing Poe close to himself. "So, payment?"  
"Two hot chocolates and one treat coming right up." Rey speeds inside, BB-Eight on her heels while Finn and Poe follow slowly, each an arm around the other's waist, laughing, the occasional side kiss as they join their friend inside.


	8. Steve Rogers: "I told you were going to get sick if you stayed in the snow all day."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers/ Reader

You run towards your house, frozen cheeks and frozen nose, shaking off as much snow as you can before making your way inside. Your scarf and gloves are heavy with bits of ice, and your hair is a frizzy, wet mess, despite having worn a hat.  
   
You shrug off your coat and kick off your boots, and despite frozen features, fingers, and toes, you feel amazing. Exhilarated, actually. And who could blame you for chasing the feeling? The first winter snow had arrived and you had taken full advantage; spending the whole day outside and building snowmen, sledding, and partaking in the most epic of epic snowball fights you had ever witnessed.  
   
"Did you have fun?" Your boyfriend, Steve, chuckles at the sight of you, standing in the doorway to the living room.  
"Totally. You should've joined us." You rub your hands to warm them up.  
"And be sick the next day?"  
"Pffft... wuss." You push against Steve's chest to move past him, but he makes himself tall, raising a stern brow, and you roll your eyes. "I'll be fine. Gotta have fun now and then."  
"Yeah. Maybe for a couple of hours. But all day?" Steve's stance softens and he pulls you close. "Let's go defrost you," he laughs after kissing your still frozen nose, and you nod in agreement.  
   
He leads you to the living room where he wraps you into your favorite blanket, then goes to warm up some chicken soup. But before you get the chance to eat, the exhaustion of the day washes over you and you're out.  
Steve chuckles in disbelief, then carries you to the bedroom, and to his surprise, you stay asleep.  
   
The next morning, the exhilaration of the previous day is gone. You wake up, barely able to move. Sore muscles aren't the only problem. Your nose is shut and your lungs feel heavy. Top it off, you feel incredibly warm and cold at the same time.  
   
"Steeeeeeeveeeee!" His name comes out with a croak. When he doesn't respond, you fetch your cell from the nightstand.  
"Where are you?" You text him. You hear his cell chime, which means he's home and ignored your call.  
"Living room."  
"I need help!" You text back, and you hear him laugh. "I heard that!" You text again.  
"Be right there, sweetheart!" He replies.  
"Hurry. I'm dying!" You message and he replies with a row of laughing emojis.  
"This is serious!" You text, hearing him laugh, again.  
   
A few moments pass. A few moments during which you hear movement. Clanking of silverware. Running water. A few sizzling noises. A few more moments then Steve appears in the doorway to the bedroom, balancing a tray on one arm, and a towel on the other.  
   
" **_I told you were going to get sick if you stayed in the snow all day._** " He chuckles, and you want to toss a pillow his way but your body feels weak. "Chicken soup. Fennel tea with some honey. And some meds." He smiles, setting the tray on the nightstand before feeling your forehead.  
"I hate Fennel tea." You pout, sniffing the hot drink, your lips twisting in disgust.  
"And I hate seeing you sick." Steve holds a serious expression as he wipes away some sweat with the towel.  
   
"Sorry." You sniffle as your nose clears a bit from the tea's steam. "But it was fun." You smirk.  
"I bet." Steve smiles. "Now. No getting up. Eat. Drink. Rest. I'll move the TV in here a bit later."  
"You gonna cuddle with me?"  
"And get sick the next day?"  
"Pffft... wuss."  
Steve quirks an amused brow. "Only if you promise not to do that again."  
You pout, but a tilt of the head, and you agree. You finish your tea and soup, and shortly after Steve joins you, cuddling with you as you watch T.V.


	9. Poe Dameron: "I’m still sad you won’t be home for Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't kept up with this. Treatment took a lot out of me. I'm slowly getting back into writing.
> 
> Poe Dameron/ fem Reader.

"See you guys tomorrow morning." You close the door behind Finn and Rey, a deep, from your lungs, sigh pushing across your lips a moment later. You stand with your back flush against the door, peering around your apartment, the remnants of the holiday party procuring a sad chuckle from you. Sad because despite just having hosted the yearly Thanksgiving family and friends get together, the fact that one chair had remained empty throughout the evening tugged on your heartstrings. Hearing the rain tap against the windows intensifies the feeling.  
   
It's not like you didn't know that you might spend holidays alone. It comes with dating a service member. And he had been upfront about these things from the get-go. That there might be some years when he'll miss every, single, important day. That there might be stretches of time when there's no communication at all. Not even the weekly, 15-minute phone call. Or when the only reliable exchange might be snail mail.  
   
The latter, you actually quite love, albeit almost always needing a decryption key to decode his handwriting. At least you have something tangible. Something to clutch on to during long nights of loneliness and crying. Something to carry with you in the pocket of your pants or shirt or jacket when working long shifts. Connecting through ink plots and scribbles, knowing he had held the pen and paper. An indirect touch from him to you.  
   
You are on the verge of more tears when the little clicks tootling your way procure another chuckle from you. And so do the tiny licks against your toes not even a minute after. "Hey, Beebee." You kneel down to scratch behind your corgi's ears, the pup's eyes looking as sad as you feel. "Guess we both miss him, huh?"  
Beebee lets out a little huff, plopping down right in front of you as though to confirm your observation. You scratch some more behind her ears, chuckling again when she rolls over so you can rub her tummy. "I guess you want a treat for that huh." You giggle when the pup jumps back up, wagging her behind because she knows she's cheered you up.  
   
"Alright. But only one!" You snicker, and Beebee rolls over again. "Ok... maybe two. But don't tell Poe when he comes back." You laugh when Beebee trots away happily to her little bed in the living room, trying to hide the second treat for later inside.  
   
You hitch a breath, then rub your hands. It's time to clean your place, and you rather be done tonight than having to worry about it in the morning. You're almost at the closet to get a plastic bag when you hear your cell's ringtone go off. You dash for your cell on the kitchen island, the words "Unknown Caller" on display, and you know it's him.  
   
"Hey, handsome!" Shoots out with such enthusiasm that the first thing you hear from his end of the line is a loud laugh.  
"Handsome, huh. Well, thank you, sweetie. So... how's my favorite girl?" You can almost feel the grin on his face when he asks that.  
"I'm ok." You beam ear to ear.  
"I meant Beebee."  
You roll your eyes. He always uses that line. Always. You mutter an "Ass!" and Poe laughs.  
"I'm just teasing, sweetie."  
You snicker. "Yeah. You better."  
   
There's a pause. It's been a few weeks since you've last talked, and now, that he's on the line, you're scrambling to find the right words without wasting precious time. "So are you guys ok over there? Do you need anything? Your dad says hi. He said he sent you a box. Did you get it? Did you get my card? I sent a few goody boxes for you and the squad. Did you share? Finn and Rey say hi. They can't wait for you to see their new place. And their new car..."  
   
"Whoa, whoa! Sweetie." Poe laughs softly. " Slow down. One thing after another."  
"I know. I know. But time limit."  
"I got a little more time today, sweetie. They gave us an extra 15."  
You sigh, close to crying again. "I miss you."  
"I know, sweetie. I miss you, too. But time is flying." Poe chuckles and so do you. He knows you get the pun. Another sigh and you can hear Poe inhale a long breath. "Sweetie. I'll be back before you know it. We'll get to spend Valentine's Day wherever you want."  
"I know. I'm just...   ** _I’m still sad you won’t be home for Christmas_**.”  
Poe sighs. "I know. I know. Listen. I was going to wait until Christmas, but... Go to my office and open the left top drawer on my desk."  
   
You do as Poe requests. "Ok. What am I looking for?"  
"Empty the drawer, then remove the whole thing and flip it over."  
Again, you do as Poe requests, your brows pulling down in surprise when you see a latch to a hidden compartment. You jiggle the latch, but it doesn't budge. "Uhm. It's locked."  
"Yeah. I know. Remember the key pendant I gave you."  
You clutch the chain around your neck, the key pendant dangling from it. "Yes." You whisper.  
"Use it."  
"What?"  
"The key, sweetie. Use it."  
You lift the chain over your head and carefully unlock the latch, finding a small, velvet box hidden inside. "Oh my god, Poe. I... I don't think, I should open this."  
You hear Poe take a breath. "Sweetie. Just... just open it."  
   
You hesitate for a moment, then slowly open the box. There's a perplexed second. Then an "uhm". Then a loud laugh. All three from you. "You're an ass!" You keep laughing. "But thank you." You chuckle as you hold three tickets to see your favorite band live in concert.  
Poe laughs as well. "What did you think was going to be in there?" He asks with such cockiness that you wish you could reach through the speaker.  
   
Another "uhm" from you and Poe goes quiet. "You're... you're not upset are you?"  
It takes a moment to collect your thoughts. Not that you actually thought he was going to ask over the phone. And stuff like this is not unusual for Poe. He's always been a bit of a prankster. But today, this tugs the wrong way. It tugs the wrong way because he's not here with you. It tugs because usually, after some stunt like this, he captures you in his arms and teases you with playful kisses and soft tickles and naughty love bites. It tugs because you miss his presence even more after this.  
   
Your silence lasts a little too long for Poe's liking and you can tell he's biting his lip beneath a cussed word. "Sweetie. I'm sorry."  
"I'm... I'm not upset." You whisper at last. "I just... miss you."  
"Hmmmm. I miss you, too. Listen, they're giving me the signal. I'll call again next week, ok?"  
You stifle a sniffle. "Ok."  
"Sweetie?"  
"Yes, Poe."  
"I love you."  
"I love you, too, Poe."  
"Sweetie?"  
You chuckle at his inability to hang up first. "Yes, Poe."  
A fraction of silence and you actually think they've made him hang up. "I'll give you the ring when I come home. I promise."  
Before you can even think of the word "what?", you hear the click of the line hanging up.


	10. Bucky Barnes: "It's snowing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes/ fem Reader

He's prepared for this day since you've told him. He's read all the books. Practiced whatever needed practicing. He even went to classes, not caring about the stares directed at his metal arm. But now that the day is actually here, he has no clue what to do. All he keeps thinking is "I'm going to break her."  
   
"James, she'll be fine. Go ahead, pick her up." You mumble wearily from your bed; a nurse next to you offering an amused smile at the nervous wreck your husband has become since the moment your daughter was born.  
"I don't know, [Y/N]. She's so small. And look at her hands. Look how small her hands are. And her fingers... I could break her." Bucky stares into the bassinet; a set of big blue eyes similar to his staring -surprisingly calm- back up at him.  
   
"Holy smokes, Tin Man. You've fought your share of bad guys. Pretty much faced death. And you're scared of a baby?" Sam Wilson's voice comes amused from the door to your room. There's a pause, Bucky squinting in the direction of Sam's voice, and you're sure Sam is squinting back, except you can't see him since the curtain is still drawn.  
   
"Sorry." You hear Sam clear his throat. "Are we allowed to step in, yet?"  
The nurse looks at you and you approve with a nod. "Ok. But only for ten minutes. Mom and baby need rest." The nurse quirks a stern brow while pulling the curtain back, and you can't help a laugh at the reveal.  
   
It's not just Sam standing between door and frame, but Nat, Steve, Clint, Wanda, and even Tony. All of them bobbing in anticipation; all of them ready to push through the frame at the same time; a collection of helium balloons floating behind their heads, and clearly some of them holding gift baskets with the crinkling noise of cellophane in between.  
The nurse hitches a breath at the sight. "Ten minutes tops. Then it's time to rest." She repeats firmly on her way out, and the group floods the room at last.  
   
"Oh my gosh. Bucky. Look at your daughter." Nat nearly squeals, trying her best to keep her voice low.  
"Thank god she looks like her mother." Sam cracks after a glance in the bassinet and you can't help another laugh when Bucky throws another squint. "Just messing man. We come bearing gifts." Sam places an envelope on the table next to your bed and the others follow with gift baskets filled with everything from snacks to baby essentials.  
   
You whisper a "thank you" and Nat takes a seat on the edge of the bed, one of her hands folding over one of yours. "You doing alright? Heard there was some trouble." She whispers, her brows pulling down in concern.  
"She was stubborn. Didn't want to turn until the last minute. Even then she was stubborn." You smile a tired smile. "But we're ok now."  
"Sounds like someone else I know," Steve whispers, taking a seat in the chair by the bed, line of sight on his best friend who is still reluctant to lift his daughter from the bassinet.  
   
"Can I hold her?" Wanda mouses out, and you nod.  
"Here, let me show you how." Clint offers, first washing his hands, then carefully picking up baby like a pro. Not surprising since he has children of his own. "Make sure to support her head and back. And watch her hands. Babies are quite strong." Clint chuckles as he hands off tiny to Wanda.  
   
You watch quietly as your friends take turns washing hands and holding baby, all of them quite confident in how they're cradling her. Even Tony. "So what's the nugget's name?" Tony asks, gently rocking baby against his shoulder.  
"Rebecca, after my sister." Bucky beams.  
"You didn't want to name her after your mother?" Steve takes another turn at holding baby, cooing incoherent words at her.  
"Uhm... yeah, no. I don't think Winifred is very accepted nowadays." Bucky's eyes go wide and the group suppresses a laugh as to not scare baby.  
   
You continue to watch your friends chat, each taking one more chance to hold tiny, but soon their conversations become an indistinguishable mix of fading words. A few whispers of "Merry Christmas" is all you really catch before the exhaustion of the day washes over you.  
   
When you come to a few hours later, the first thing you see in a hazy outline is an empty bassinet and you shoot up in a panic. It isn't until your vision clears that you notice the moving rocking chair by the window; the chair now facing the window when earlier it stood overlooking the room. Another glance and you spot Bucky's hair over the edge of the back.  
   
You quietly stretch your legs to the floor, feet quickly finding the slippers you've brought along. Then you slip into your robe. You're careful not to make any noise when you pace towards the chair, even pausing your approach when you hear baby coo.  
   
"Shhhh. Let's not wake mommy. She's very tired." You hear Bucky whisper. "Look at you. You're just a small bean. We've been waiting for you, you know. Every day I told your mama, you're going to be a Christmas baby. I could tell. I just knew because she kept eating all those cookies. And don't get me started on how much milk she's been drinking. Sometimes as much as a gallon a day."  
   
"Alright. Alright. I get it. You know that I'm here." You snicker at the exaggeration.  
Bucky faces you with a smug smile. He moves and somehow you manage to curl onto the chair with him and baby. He kisses your hair, then his attention shifts back to the little human in his arm.  
   
His chest rises with a deep inhale, gaze still on the tiny being in his arms. He's amazed how calm she remains even though he's sure she can feel the metal through the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. "She's so small. So small. But... she's amazing." Bucky chuckles when baby wraps her tiny hands around one of his fingers. "I can't even tell you how grateful I am. For you. And her. But... I'm terrified. What if I do everything wrong? What if she finds out who I was? Will she hate me?"  
   
You can hear the fear in Bucky's voice, and suddenly you understand why he was actually afraid of holding tiny. "I don't think, she'll hate you, James. As long as you're honest. There'll be days she won't like either of us. That's just how it is. But if you love her just the way she is and you're honest, I doubt, she'll ever hate you."  
   
"I hope you're right." Bucky's gaze trails to the window. He pauses for a second, then smiles. "Look at that, Bean. **_It's snowing._** " He whispers, gently shifting baby in his arms to show off the view. "I cannot wait for you to come home. The world is so big and you're so small. Your mama is an amazing woman. She sings and paints, and does so many amazing things. And  I've got so much to tell you about uncle Steve, and uncle Clint, and Aunty Nat, and Aunty Wanda, and Uncle Tony..."


End file.
